by Yuriko Hime
Out of there (final day of experiment)
Summer wasn't supposed to be this chilly. The weather report said it was going to be warm and windy, yet I have taken to rubbing my arms vigorously to keep warm. The tingle of excitement was making me cold. The finale was the bread and butter of the experiment.
Lulu glanced at her watch. "How many minutes?" she said, leaning on the hood of the car. It was ten in the evening and we were on the parking lot waiting for Nicky.
"She's almost done with her work shift," I said. "Patience." A minute more, Nicky walked hurriedly to us, hands jammed in her pocket, head low. I readied myself. The moment she was within grabbing distance, I took the handkerchief I prepared beforehand and pushed it to her nose and mouth. Surprise worked in my favor. Her eyes rolled up, her lashes fluttered, and she was out like a baby, slacking on the ground. I looked up to see Lulu staring at me in horror. "Surprise," I said.
Her teeth clashed together. "Scotland Roth, what the fuck?!" Darn, maybe I should have told her about the plan. Knowing Lulu would object, I intentionally kept it from her hoping she'd ride along later, as always.
"I checked the area," I said, keeping Nicky's head from dropping. "There are no cameras. The place is secluded. Can you help me carry her to the car? I want her secured in ropes before she wakes up."
If looks could kill, I'd be double dead with Lulu's piercing gaze. "That's beside the point." She stomped her Converse-fitted foot on the pavement. "I thought this was going to be peaceful?!" Her fingers twitched like she wanted to slap me. "You lied. I won't be an accessory to this crime. A good friend would stop this, and I'm telling you to stop."
"A good friend would, but a best friend would help me put Nicky in the car before someone gets here," I reasoned with her. "Weren't you the one who always joked that if I were to kill a person, you'd help me drive the runaway car while Casper buried the body? Was that all a lie?" Lulu rubbed her temple and turned her back to me. "Nobody is killing Nicky," I said. "If you can't tell, this is still part of the experiment."
"You are insane, Scotland. I will not get imprisoned for this, nor would I allow you to. This is me doing you a favor." Her words slurred, making it more difficult to understand. To me it sounded like, "Yu av insen, Scotland. I vill not get imprisoned fo dis, nor vuld. . ." And so forth. Bloody hell. "Wait for her to come around and apologize," she said firmly.
I rested Nicky carefully on the pavement, and when I was sure that she wouldn't get hurt, I stepped in front of Lulu. "Have you heard of the Stanford Prison Experiment?" I said. "The blue-eyed versus brown-eyed experiment? The Harlow's experiment? All of them received a backlash, yet the contribution to the society was enormous." I opened my arms wide. "That's what I'm doing here."
"It's wrong," she said. "As I said, wait for her to come around and apologize." For once, I was worried that she wouldn't agree.
"Don't you remember what I asked Nicky last time? After the meeting with Jordan? Go on, say it," I urged. Lulu pressed her lips together. She wasn't going to cooperate. "I asked Nicky if she'd agree to an experiment where I'd kidnap her, make her do things in the guise of being in danger, and whether she'd get mad at me. She said that she would at first, but then if she wouldn't be harmed and if it would help people later, she'd be all for it. I asked her again firmly if she would say yes after explaining that it involved frightening her to the breaking point, and she said yes. I got her consent, Lu. What do you expect me to do, usher her in the car like a gentleman? How would it be realistic?"
A vein popped on her neck. "I'm not doing this, Scotland, even with her consent!" she yelled.
"Scotland this. Scotland that. You're making me sound like a jerk," I persisted. "I had her consent. She wouldn't be harmed. What do you want me to do?! If the participant knows what's going to happen beforehand, the result will be invalid. How can you not understand that from my viewpoint?"
Our shouting match blindsided me to another car entering the parking lot until it was too late. When the tires hit the gravel on the other side, Lulu and I were in a panicked fit, almost out of options. "We're dead," she said, grabbing her hair.
"We're not! Help me get Nicky in the car."
Having no other choice, Lulu and I seized Nicky's hands and legs, kept her low on the ground, and heaved her to the car. The passengers from the other vehicle, whoever they were, didn't see anything. The side mirror showed that we were on the clear. I stepped on the gas and got out of there, breathing hard, feeling adrenaline power me up. The experiment was on.
Chapter 19
The soft purr of the engine was all that could be heard in the car. Lulu stared bleakly out the window while my hands rested lightly on the steering wheel. We weren't followed by the new guest in the parking lot. It was safe. I should have known that the peace wouldn't last long.
"If Casper was here, he'd be able to control you better than me," Lulu said bitterly. "I failed as a friend and keeper." She whipped her head to me. "You know what I'll do? I'll call him right now and tell him to bring some sense into that head of yours." I stepped on the brakes, making both of us lurch forward. Her cellphone slid under the seat. She was about to make a mistake. Lulu's lips parted to make a speech, but we were too deep in the rabbit hole. I couldn't care less if that speech deserved an award.
I held a finger up. "Don't talk. Just listen to me," I said. "This is my one shot for the experiment. If we don't get this done, another opportunity won't come by. There are too many variables to consider, including where we can get another willing participant. And what will we tell Nicky? Oh sorry, girl, we were about to launch an experiment that you consented to, but since my partner chickened out, we had to let you go. And that chemical I used to make you sleep? Totally non-lethal. Please don't tell other people. Bye!" Lulu managed a deadpan expression at my sarcasm. "You're either in this, or you get out of the car," I said.
She bent to retrieve her phone and grumbled when she saw the cracked screen. "If Casper finds out about this. . ."
"He won't know until after the book is published." I reverted to my honey-smooth voice that has always worked on her. "By then he'll see the rationale behind it and forgive us. Congratulate us even." I shifted the gears. "Promise me that once we're on location, you'll do everything I say to make this a successful run." The muscles on her face tightened. "I want to hear you say it, Lu."
A whoosh of air was released from her mouth. "I promise," she said. "Brief me beforehand. The smoother it goes, the faster it will be finished." I concealed my smile as I nodded.
There was burning curiosity behind Lulu's eyes as we reached the small warehouse where the trials would be conducted. I've rented it for three days. The experiment itself wouldn't take that long, but I've read last night that the experimenter should anticipate a problem or changes in the plan, therefore creating a quick solution prior. The extended period of rent was a contingency plan.
Lulu didn't ask anything as we parked, nor did she complain when we huffed and puffed, hoisting Nicky's unconscious body between us as we took her inside the warehouse. The only time she spoke was when she saw another woman in a lab coat, sitting on the makeshift facility.
"Who is she?" Lulu said, keeping a firm grip on Nicky's legs. The middle-aged woman didn't so much as glance up from her clipboard to address us. I guided Lulu to the metallic test bed to position Nicky there gently. "Who is she?" Lulu said again, as if I hadn't heard her.
I adjusted the bed at a comfortable height. "She's our supervising Doctor. She has a PhD in everything, so you needn't worry so much." PhD in everything. What a joke. Truth was, I wanted Nicky to feel that the experiment was legit. A presence of a doctor would not only make it so, but also ensure her safety. I've asked the doctor to tell me to stop if she perceived the subject to be psychologically or physically harmed because of this, though I wouldn't go so far. I turned to Lulu. "She's also a friend of daddy's. I want you to pretend she's not here."
Lulu massaged her arms. The final experiment hasn't began, yet
she looked worn out and conflicted. "Does the doctor know what you're up to?" she asked.
"I've explained everything. She didn't think it was potentially dangerous," I said. "Please secure Nicky's head on the bed. I don't want her moving like a panicked goose later. She might get a whiplash. The strap's are hanging underneath."
I've stripped the warehouse of anything comfortable or friendly-looking. It was meant to create a false assumption on Nicky's end. Real conversion therapy could have taken place under better or worse circumstances, sometimes even on plushy couches. But who was to say the impact was less damaging? They were telling a gay person that she was insane and in need of repair. How was sitting on a comfortable office a relief?
Once Nicky's legs, arms, and head were secured, I rolled a TV screen in front of the bed. "The conditions are perfect," I said. "She'll wake up anytime, but I'd rather we greet our guest the right way. Data sheet ready?" The doctor made a thumbs up. "No backing down," I said to Lulu. Her nod was grim. "Experiment number one. In three, two."
I patted her face, gently at first, then a bit harder when she didn't stir. Nicky came to after a while, blinking her eyes open, the last of sleep still there. "Where am I?" she said groggily. Little by little, recognition dawned on her, of who I was, of where she was supposed to be. She wasn't in the parking lot anymore, and I knew that being woken under such strange conditions would make her agitated.
I held my breath, giving her time to collect herself, to realize what was happening. Letting it sink in. A cold sweat would break on her face, starting small, like the sheen on her upper lips, which I could see from where I stood. Then she'd notice that she was bound, in which case, she'd already realized as she tugged her hands against the strap. "What is this?" she said, bug-eyed, pupils dilated. From the corner of my eyes, I could see the doctor scribbling notes.
I brushed the stray hair that was stuck on Nicky's jaw. "Shhhh," I murmured. "You're in a lab for our final phase of experiment."
"B-but I don't understand," she squeaked. "I thought there would be another interview. Or, or, you'd introduce me to someone again."
"I will." Moving to the side, I gestured to the doctor. "She's the leading conversion therapy practitioner in the state. She's done hundreds of procedures like this. Ninety-nine percent of the girls she performed it to were cured. We simply want to know if you're fit enough to be normal again."
She yanked at her straps. "I am normal." Nicky's gaze went to Lulu who was standing further in the room. "You've got to help me. I don't deserve this," she begged. I smiled robotically at Nicky before silencing Lulu with a glare. If she didn't get my message, she might as well leave the warehouse.
Lulu's lower lip quivered. It looked like she was going to give in. "I'm sorry, Nicky." She glanced at me, guilty and accusing at the same time. I tensed. "This is for your own good," she rode along. I breathed out my relief. It was all going according to plan.
"Shall we begin?" I said. When all eyes were back on me, I went to the TV and switched it on. "This is called visualization. In this stage, you'll view dozens of images on heterosexual relationships. This will help change your perception of what a healthy sexuality should be." The screen displayed a couple holding hands. It was cheesy. This wouldn't leave an impression on Nicky, but I was building her for the finale. "I'm taking a nap." I wiggled my fingers. "Cheerio."
"You're just leaving me here?" she yelled to our retreating backs. "I'm calling the police on you, Scotland! This is abuse." She said a couple more things after that, but I was too far away, closing the door of the warehouse to hear.
We haven't had a time out in a while, reader, so while Nicky was watching TV, the doctor was jotting on her clipboard, and Lulu was fuming on the car, disgusted with me, we'd use this opportunity to catch up. First things, first. How are you? I'd be lying if I said I was fine. Anyone would think I was a selfish prick for doing that to Nicky, but I wasn't. Great things took risks, sometimes at the cost of being disliked.
Quoting from one of the books sitting on my shelf in my parent's house, "He did great things. Terrible, but great." I wasn't telling you to imagine me as that no nose, bald-headed, ashen-colored antagonist. I was too pretty for that, but you know what I meant. Had enough of me yet? You love me. Admit it.
When time was up, Lulu and I marched back to the warehouse, barely acknowledging each other. Things would be more challenging from here on. I switched the TV off. "How was it?" I said to Nicky.
Her lips quirked in a smile. "I know what you're doing. You're messing with my head," she said. If she wasn't tied, she'd have danced round and round, proud at herself for figuring it out. "You got my consent from the last meeting about this. To tell you the truth, I thought you'd really try to hurt me when I woke up. But after watching that awful PowerPoint slide and remembering what you told me the other day, I'm convinced that this is just a way for you to get your findings. Am I right?"
I rolled the TV away. "You can think all you want," I said. "First stage has failed, doc. We have to take an aggressive approach. Bring the ECT device in."
The doctor put her clipboard down. "Alright," she said.
While she was arranging the equipment on the bedside table, I pointed to the electrodes and started a conversation with Nicky. "Have you heard of Electroconvulsive therapy?" I said. "Using a device, we can introduce an electric current to your brain that will result in a seizure. It's been approved by the FDA for mental disorder intervention. It's relatively safe, especially if there's a muscle relaxant and anesthesia involved. However, we won't be using that. Do you know why?"
Nicky's mouth twitched. I was so sure she wouldn't say anything, but then she asked. "Why?"
"Because the more you feel the pain, the faster you'll turn normal."
All manner of confidence have left Nicky at that point. Her face was white as a sheet. She was gaping at me, taut, frozen, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Her self-preservation kicked in when the doctor attached the electrodes on her temples. She rocked back and forth on the bed, then screamed her lungs out. "Heeeelp! Help me!"
Lulu moved forward to comfort her. "No," I whispered.
"Can't you see she's distressed?!"
"We're almost done," I promised. "Almost there." Lulu shrank back on my shadow, frustrated. I patted Nicky's leg to quiet her. "You're making this harder for everyone here," I said. "Doctor, ready the ECT."
"I can't do this!" Nicky yelled. She was shaking, spitting saliva. "Help me, anyone!"
"You're wasting your energy," I said. "Under awful circumstances, it's best to scream the word 'fire' instead of 'help.' People in the vicinity are more likely to react that way. It's in human nature to follow curiosity rather than perform a rescue. You know what else is human nature? Heterosexuality. We're going to bring you back to that using ECT. You have my word. Turn the dial to the highest level, doctor." The doctor fiddled with the knob.
Nicky buckled against her restraints. "I won't be treated with this! I'm not even sick!"
"Or so you say," I rebuffed. "If this doesn't work, we'll move on to female genital mutilation while you watch lesbian pornography. Removing your clit in such a manner will treat your condition." I clapped my hands together. "I have an idea. Why don't we do it simultaneously? ECT with a twist! We have a sterile scalpel here somewhere." Nicky shrieked so loud, the vein on her neck appeared close to snapping.
The doctor put a hand on my arm. "It's time to stop this," she whispered. "The subject doesn't think you're joking anymore. The only reason why I agreed was because I believed in your cause and I owe your father a lot. Continuing is taking it too far and might hurt my own career." She tucked her black hair behind her ear. Though it was tempting to go on, I knew when to stop. I breathed out and stepped back. "Good call. I'll calm her."
On the corner away from sight, I sat and buried my face on my hands. It was exhausting. I've broken several rules. There was a lot of apologizing to do.
Lulu came to me after twenty minutes. "They're expectin
g you to do the debriefing," she said. "The doctor has informed Nicky that it was fake."
"Thank you," I said without lifting my head up. "I'll be there shortly."
Things were generally peaceful when I got to my feet and walked back to them. Nicky wasn't strapped on the bed anymore and was sitting on its edge, her feet dangling inches from the floor. They provided me a separate chair to rest on. "Are you alright?" I asked, studying her face.
"Yes," she managed to say.
"How did you feel when the experiment was ongoing?"
Her hands formed into fists. She did nothing but stare at them before answering. "Agitated at first, then I wanted to laugh when I remembered our conversation." She took a shaky breath. "I got really angry when you brought out the ECT machine and threatened to cut off my clit. It wasn't funny."
"I'm so sorry for that." I lowered my head to offer her humility. Something I rarely did. "There are two goals for this trial. One is to prove whether they were right to stop conversion therapy in all parts of the world. After this experience, do you feel less homosexual than when we've began?"
"No. . . I feel. . ." Her chest puffed as she stood straighter. "I feel prouder of being a lesbian, like people shouldn't do this to us, stop what we are. There's also that sense of empowerment, as if I've been to hell and survived. From now on if anyone tells me to change what I am, I won't hesitate to fight back. I'm not strapped in a bed anymore. Nothing can stop me." She rubbed the back of her head. "Is this how they really conduct conversion therapy?"
"Some, yes," I said. "I've read a testament from a man who survived the ordeal. He said that he was forced to masturbate to pictures of women even if he was sexually attracted to men. It was cruel and unjust. I've tried to replicate the scenario with you using the least degrading methods possible, but the rest of it, the electrocution, the castration, and the body mutilation are all true. You only have to dig deep in books and recounts to know that these things happened and is still happening in real life. None of this is an exaggeration, only simulation."